


Of fantasies and aching

by haru_ran



Category: Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky (2009), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Erotica, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Romance, Sexual Content, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5514863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru_ran/pseuds/haru_ran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon their way to the last battle with the Great Red Dragon, Will found himself fantasizing about things he wasn't aware of desiring in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of fantasies and aching

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the written words. This is set in the finale of season three and some scenes were alternated for the purpose of this fiction. Also, this is not beta read yet, for what I apologize. It will be checked and alternated on a later time, if necessary.
> 
> **A/N:** Hannigram Exchange for [vitoriaana](https://twitter.com/vitoriaana). I hope it comes close to what you imagined. Merry Christmas!

Somehow this wasn't going at all how Will had expected his scheme to work. On the other hand, Francis Dolarhyde had caught on the bait nevertheless so it wasn't all that bad. Still he looked a little uncertain at the police car halting in front of him and the door being opened from inside. He blinked at the dead body being shoved outside and frowned a little at Hannibal when the latter nonchalantly asked him, “Going my way?” With a shrug he complied and climbed into the passenger's seat. Hannibal drove off into the landscape soon afterwards and Will found himself wondering where exactly they were going.

He didn't inquire about the nature of their destination nor did he regard Hannibal with any specific attention. Not that the other was regarding him with any of his attention either, but that didn't matter when Will watched the landscape passing by. He didn't blink when the scenery became blurry and morphed into a wide, creamy-colored room. He found himself sitting in a dark-leathered armchair across from Bedelia du Maurier. “Is Hannibal in love with me?” The question vibrated in his ears, the following reply of the blonde nothing but a blur. Nothing really reached his mind but one statement. “Yes, but do you ache for him?”

Will blinked with the inquiry still ringing in his ears and found himself watching the landscape, again. Sighing he turned his head a little to look out of the front window. Why was this talk intruding his mind now of all times?

A forest neared the police car and he glanced to his left. Hannibal drove the car with sureness and smooth to whatever their destination was going to be. His white overall wrinkled at the joints of his limbs and tightly wrapped around his upper arms and legs. Will turned his head further, the back of it resting on his seat when his eyes drew in the muscled biceps. His gaze dropped down, wandering over Hannibal's body and he really wondered just what exactly Hannibal was wearing underneath this single piece of clothing. He shuddered, closing his eyes and turned his head back to the front of the window. His brown curls swayed lightly when he shook his head to get rid of the image of Hannibal with his opened overall and naked skin flashing through the single button line. So much for the question whether Will was aching for him or not. Heat rose to his cheeks and he bit his bottom lip when he forced himself to look out of his window again. It was of no help at all that Hannibal sniffing the air was audible, and of course the older was aware of his arousal. He tried to ignore the assurance of his empathy that an amused grin played over Hannibal's lips and hoped that the ride would have an end soon and would go by without any comment.

To his luck their destination was reached in silence and Will found himself confronted with Hannibal's secret hideout. How the FBI wasn't able to find out about _that_ place, even after digging everything up about Hannibal's life that was possible, was really a mystery to him. For a moment he imagined Abigail walking through the wide house and could literally feel her presence still lingering in its walls when he entered. He felt her presence still looming in corners where she most certainly had stayed most of the time when she had hid in the house and wondered whether her shoes had stood where he had put his.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Hannibal welcomed him inside and strolled through the corridor towards the parlor, he assumed. Will put away his coat and followed suit. The soft melody of a piano was soon emanating from the parlor when Hannibal turned on his record player and for a moment Will wondered who had composed the lovely piece.

“I hope you don't mind if I change into some more proper clothing,” Hannibal announced and inwardly Will shivered at the glint in his maroon eyes. He simply shook his head and drifted his eyes away from Hannibal's looming presence and inwardly wished that the images of what lay beneath the white overall would vanish. He missed the amused grin playing over Hannibal's lips when the older made his way up the stairs.

Being left to himself, Will let his eyes wander over the impressive interior of Hannibal's parlor and marvelled in how well the music fitted this place. But what else was to be expected of Hannibal. The man loved only the finest in arts after all. A black piano facing the wide open window then caught his eyes and he strolled over to the instrument. Swiftly his fingers ran over the surface, leaving behind a trail on a very thin layer of dust, and he literally could feel Hannibal's presence radiating from the chair in front of the keyboard. The older must have spent a lot of time playing the impressive instrument and somehow he wished that Hannibal would play a piece for him, and only for him.

Gently Will ran his finger over the keys, a deep tune resounding when he tapped one of the white colored ones far on the left. It didn't sound out of tune at all, an indicator for Hannibal taking care of the instrument well even after all this time spent in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane under Alana's watchful eyes.

He tapped the white key once more, eyes focused on the keyboard when the black keys morphed into one with the white ones and the music from the record player intruded his mind to the fullest. His surroundings didn't change in particular but he found himself looking at the piano from a different angle. A figure was huddled over the piano, fingers swiftly moving over the keys and creating beautiful music. The brownish-blond hair was well combed and Will couldn't suppress the familiarity it gave him. It wasn't just the style and color of hair that reminded him of Hannibal but the other's figure as well. The broad shoulders were the same and the muscled biceps, the only difference between this man huddled over the piano and Hannibal were the former's trimmed mustache and rounded glasses. Maroon eyes were leering at him from behind those glasses and Will had to gulp at the intensity lying in the gaze.

He shivered and warmth enveloped him. Crimson spread over his cheeks when the pianist halted his play and rose his eyes to fully look at him. Will gasped and couldn't deny that he felt as if a twin of Hannibal from another century was standing before him. He closed his eyes when he became aware of another presence behind him. Whispered words of the Lithuanian language were breathed into his ears and albeit he didn't understand their meaning he was sure that Hannibal was the one whose lips were lingering near his ear. He closed his eyes, a flush blooming on his cheeks when he leaned back against Hannibal's body. He felt every curve of Hannibal against his back and sighed softly, content.

No word was spoken when Hannibal's hands slithered over Will's chest and the pianist inched closer. Before he knew what was coming over him, one button of his shirt after the other was opened. He shivered at the soft touch of the pianist's fingers gliding over his skin. Goosebumps appeared and Will couldn't suppress a groan when Hannibal pinched his nipples gently and commented on the soft nubs to become erected with the slightest of his touch.

“Are you aching for me?” Hannibal whispered ever so softly and let his lips wander over a patch of skin in the nape of Will's neck. Will turned his head at that, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over when he eyed the older man pressed against his back. His eyes focused on Hannibal's maroon pair and he had to gulp. “Yes,” was everything he breathed before he succumbed to the temptation of kissing Hannibal's lips. They felt soft, and warm. Shifting in Hannibal's hold, Will snaked his arms around Hannibal's neck and bathed in the shared kiss. He was aware of the pianist's presence, and registered the skilled fingers working on the button of his trousers. He certainly didn't mind. By now they felt far too tight and he just really wanted to get out of them and feel more of Hannibal's hands on him.

Hannibal's hands slithered over Will's back in circles, the curly head's shirt deliberately thrown to the ground when he finally let go of Hannibal's neck. Instead Will's fingers found their way to the single button line of the older's white overall and popped one by one open. His jeans were pooling to his feet by then and his erection evidently bulging his revealed underwear. The pianist rose then and pressed himself against Will's back, letting him feel his obvious arousal neatly pressed against his backside. Will moaned softly, eyes focused on the naked skin enfolding before his eyes when Hannibal's overall was open. Hannibal regarded his reaction with an alluring grin and peeled the overall from his body like a snake peeling off its old skin.

In the split of a second Will found himself bent over the piano, Hannibal's erection pressed against his ass and the pianist kneeling before him and nibbling gently on the mellow flesh of his legs. Will closed his eyes at the ministrations pouring over his body, the hands caressing over every patch of skin they could find and lips leaving behind marks. His entire world was spinning with the pleasure Hannibal and the pianist were giving him and he only wished that it would last forever.

With a heaving chest and breathless Will found himself once more in Hannibal's parlor, alone. The arousal from his fantasy was heavy between his legs and it wasn't helpful at all that he was flushed and his eyes glazed over from what he could see staring back at him in the wide window.

“You're playing games with yourself in the dark of the moon,” Hannibal's voice resounded in his ears and Will became aware of the older having returned from changing his clothes. Just now he as well registered the piano play from before had come to a stop. Nonchalantly Hannibal polished two wine glasses and Will inwardly shivered at his words, “How curious that Stravinsky has such an effect on you.”

Will turned around, aroused as he was and fully aware of Hannibal knowing of his state of arousal, and eyed the older now dressed in a simple grey shirt and brown jacket. He watched Hannibal pouring them a glass of wine, awed at how such a simple act was still able to effect him. “Isn't it more curious that you are having such an effect on me?” he questioned softly and by the grin he received he was sure that Hannibal's answer was yes.

The older stepped closer, sipping on his wine, and cupped Will's cheek with his left hand. Their eyes were focused on one another, pupils wandering left and right, when they inwardly inched closer. Their lips were only a breath away, both feeling the other breathing against their lips when Will shivered. “He's watching us now,” he whispered and closed his eyes. Hannibal drew in the sweet scent of Will's arousal and pulled back, “I know.”

The glass of the window shattered, the wine bottle falling into pieces when Hannibal's body got pierced with a bullet. Will stood frozen and watched Hannibal going down, blood oozing from his stomach. He didn't flinch when Francis Dolarhyde entered the parlor and pointed a weapon to his head. “Don't run. I'll catch you,” he announced and Will simply complied.

Breathing heavily, Hannibal was propped on his elbow and eyed the intruder, “Hello, Francis.”

Francis moved into Hannibal's view and stared down on him. “Hello, Doctor Lecter.” Will sipped on his wine, making eye contact with Hannibal and both were certain, that they would continue where they left off once the Great Red Dragon was out of their way.


End file.
